Wits and Zombie Bits
by BandaPear
Summary: A young woman named Lythia is stuck in the midst of Zombies. She has to get along with her unconventional allies if she wants to survive, and that's difficult.  MY FIRST STORY :D... I suck at summaries XD..
1. The Overview

**HI. OKAY. I'm ~Invader-Vee on Deviantart. I thought about it a little, and I'm putting my story on FF.N. Enjoy, guys :D!**

-Prologue-

She... was such a failure.

No, really. The former test subject really was a failure. At least in the eyes of Dr. Richtofen she was.

Lythia (affectionately named Vee for various reasons) wandered around the old Nazi theatre. Its rotting and crumbling ceiling always had something to groan about, despite being inanimate. More or less, the overly-decorated-with-Nazi-flags walls were just as chatty. Although she was always losing her train of thought once in a while due to the groans and shrieks of the undead that roamed the withered old place, she tried to focus, not to mention wrap her head around, when and how the hell she got into this mess.

As much as Vee could recall, she had been to two other locations thus far; one was the old abandoned German munitions factory/top secret science center. What she remembered particularly about it was the fact it was shrouded by an eerie eclipse, coating the whole facility in ominous shades of blue. The other was a swamp, and her memory of that wretched place was not only the smell, but what had happened in one of the wings of the small, flooded area. It was something she'd rather not speak of, and promised herself she never would.

But the main one was when she met the four men-children she'd be forced to group with. She'd been knocked out in the swamp, and not long later awoke to the tall, muscular, blonde Marine everyone loved staring down at her with cold blue eyes. The Japanese man, Takeo, seemed to dislike her, the drunken Russian, Nikolai, called her a stripper, and then there was that German, Richtofen…. OHHH there was that German which she hated so much and wanted to wring out his neck. The mere sight of him made her want to puke. No matter what mental diseases he'd had, she still couldn't stand him.

Vee made an instant bond with that stupid drunk because of both of their alcohol addictions. With the Marine, Tank, it was that "I hate you so much go die" kind of bond. (She just recently met a blonde woman who looked a lot like her and claimed instantly to be her sister.)

There was something about Tank. It bugged her. He was always so close to her; everywhere she went he was there too. He also called her "doll" or "baby doll," and she wasn't sure whether that was to piss her off or complement her. (Her lack of people skills added to that thought.)

Vee shook her head, bringing her back to reality. "What kind of name is Tank anyway? Can't be his real name… and if it is… his parents must've been drunk…" she mumbled.

She noticed she was in a different spot; the old bar by the Speed Cola machine. The amount of zombies had slowed to almost to nothing, so she figured she'd better reload… or at the least check how much ammo was left. The Ray Gun's ammunition supply was down to about 15/20. Vee didn't mind it much, and not because she'd completely forgotten HOW to reload the cartoonish red pistol. Tank had taken a half-assed attempt at showing the ditzy blonde woman how to reload ANYTHING. Just before she had gotten the hang of reloading and attempting to fire a gun legitimately for the first time, he gave up and left her still utterly confused. Vee nearly broke most of the weapons she was given because of her cluelessness. So instead, she studied the others when they used weapons, and managed to mostly figure out how to use her precious Ray Gun.  
>Snapping out of her thoughts yet again, Vee noticed something.<p>

She was alone.

Rage boiled in her as silence crept around. She searched for her teammates to no avail. The raw rage turned into pure panic as a new round began and the undead poured in around her…

**Just sayin', this is my first story. DON'T TAZE ME BRO. Anyway, hope you liked the beginnin' :D!**


	2. Vodka For Your Thoughts?

**OHAI. It's Panda again! I was gonna wait to put up the next chapter but y'know, it was there, ready, and screaming to be published. So here it is :D!**

-Vee's POV-

Just to clarify, I'm currently running my scrawny ass off from about… oh… thirty or so Nazis with a bad case of the munchies.  
>Not the least bit fun.<br>You see, the five MORONS I was with suddenly ditched me. I hope they come back. NOT BECAUSE I NEED HELP, MIND YOU. I just want to kill them all. If this is a joke, then they haven't the slightest idea of comedy. Seriously.

* * *

><p>As fast as she could kill them, they spawned. The short Scott didn't have any help, and her ammo supply wasn't in the most… reassuring of numbers. Not only was her gun hungry for rounds, but she was tiring quickly. Her small frame couldn't take this much, not to mention she was poorly clothed for the dangerous environment she was in. Lack of skin protection, energy, teammates, and ammo surely spelled the lovely word DOOM.<p>

* * *

><p>That little brat Samantha permitted Vee's usage of her beloved .50 caliber rifle. This, in all forms, pissed off the Scott beyond anything.<p>

Using any points she managed to scrape together hurriedly, Vee switched on a few traps. Throwing a grenade into the currently-being-BBQ'd mass of walking decay, some (disgusting) legless corpses merged from the crackling crowd. Satisfied, the tired blonde walked aimlessly. She stumbled upon the mysterious wooden crate. Its pulsating double question marks added to the wonder. Heaving, she used the last of her points and lifted the lid of the box. Its eerie childish tune chimed as a vast array of weapons flashed before her. She crossed her frail fingers and hoped for something good. The weapons slowed until a massive tubular piece of machinery was displayed. Carefully trading her empty MG for the strange device, she slung it onto her tiny shoulder. "HOLYYYYJesusinahandbasket…" she breathed, straining to keep it on her. Soon enough, she was forced to sit, resting the handheld jet turbine on her lap. Studying it, her fingers caressed the foreign language printed on one of the tubes. Vee picked it back up, and out of curiosity, aimed at nothing, squeezed the trigger, and fired off a round. The force of the recoil knocked the poor girl over, her frame unable to support the hurricane-like wind. "Shitfire… that… was… AWESOME!" she giggled like an amused child. Lugging the weapon around, Vee kept trying to find her "comrades."

* * *

><p>After a few drinks, self-rants, and sore shoulder moments, Vee found her main unfortunate companion. Tiredly stumbling over to the self-centered blonde Marine named Tank Dempsey, Vee gave him a good whack to the back of the head with the butt of her handheld wind cannon. Groaning, he looked up at her. "W-why'd you do that?..." the dazed Marine mumbled. Before he could clear his head, Vee nagged him for leaving her.<p>

"You're so inconsiderate! I could have DIED. You can't just wonder off without me! HOW DARE YOU. I'm too tiny to be on my own like this!"

Even though he wasn't paying attention to a word his blonde partner-in-zombie-killing was saying, he stared and tried his best to look ashamed of himself. Once her anger was almost gone, (toward him at least,) she crossed her arms, huffed, and stared at him.

Being the extremely dumb blonde he was, Tank had no idea what she was hinting at. So he just got up, stretched, and rubbed the newly forming bruise on his head.

An angry whimper started to come from Vee's throat, and Tank gave her a look of confusion.  
>She screamed out of frustration, "YOU'RE HOPELESS!" and stomped out.<br>Puzzled as to what he did wrong, Tank shrugged, leaving to go get a Juggernog.

* * *

><p>"I 'unno what she was mad about. I didn't do anything… I think.. Oh well. She'll get over it in like… Ten minutes," the Marine mumbled to himself. His "doll," as he referred to her as, was always angry about something. He found that he'd gotten used to her temper. He just kicked back and relaxed, waiting for her to come crawling back to him.<p>

* * *

><p>Nikolai was trying to get another bottle of vodka. Unaware of the angry little blonde woman behind him, he mumbled drunkenly to himself. "Fourth wife… smelled too much. And she snored. So I kill her with bare hands…"<p>

Vee rolled her eyes. With the end of her Thundergun, (as she deciphered the Russian printing to learn the name,) she whacked him.

"AHH! First wife! Is that you? I SWEAR I WAS NOT STARING AT LARGE-BOOBED LADY AGAIN." He spun around to greet the angry Scott.

"Oh. Stripper lady. Is just you. Whatever Nikolai did was not true. NOPE."

"SHUT UP!"

"Eh… you sound pissed. COME, ANGRY EXOTIC DANCER. HAVE DRINK WITH NIKOLAI."

Vee's angry glare quickly turned into a small smile. She laughed and sat down next to her drunk buddy. And in an amazing rare moment, he shared his vodka. He just did that so he wouldn't get mauled. Because that would mean no vodka ever again.

"A toast… to you NOT killing me out of anger for whatever I may have done but do not remember doing WHATSOEVER."  
>Vee nudged him lightly and rolled her eyes, giggling. Being mad at the blubbering Cossack just wasn't possible.<p>

* * *

><p>At least an hour later, the dynamic drinking duo…. were utterly wasted.<br>"'N ya shouldda seen th' look'n 'is face when I KICKED 'im in the BALLS," Lythia blabbed, giggling. "Th'n I strangled 'im. Fun 's shit."  
>"STRANGLING? That is how I kill fourth wife. You remind me of eighth wife. She always tried to kill something. Like me…" Nikolai stated, belching.<p>

"'Least I… wait… what w's I gon' say?"

"How should I know? I cannot read minds. FIFTH WIFE COULD DO THAT… creepy bitch.."  
>The Scott shrugged. She decided it was time to go. Muttering a slurred goodbye to her Russian comrade, she stumbled off, hiccupping. Nikolai waved. "Goodbye, sexy pole-dancer! Ehe he he…"<p>

* * *

><p>Tank was in a different spot than he was before, arguing with Richtofen. Neither of them knew why they fought. They just did. Richtofen spotted the stumbling Scott.<p>

"Dempshey, your lady friend ish here."

Tank rolled his eyes. "I ain't fallin' for that one again…."

"No really. Und she is drunk."

"Still not lookin'."

"She is right behind you."

"NO SHE'S NOT SHUT UP SOURKRAU-"

Vee threw her arms around Tank. "EYOOOOO~" she yelled.  
>A beam of triumph glinted in the Nazi's eye as Tank had been proven wrong.<br>"WAZAAAAAH? 'M drunk," Vee giggled.

"We see that…"

"AHAHAHAH! YOU'RE SO FUNNY!"

"Wait, I didn't mean it like tha- MRRRRFFF!" Tank was cut short as Vee pressed her lips to his. Richtofen laughed to himself, leaving.

The intoxicated Scott drew back, whispering, "You need to learn when to shut up!"  
>Leaving Tank speechless for once, she laughed and ended up falling asleep, resting her head on his shoulder. Tank drew her limp form onto his lap, patted her back, and chuckled. "She should be drunk more often."<p>

**END. CHAPTER. 1. :3 Anyway, I'm almost done with chapter two. Should be up soon :D. But for now, PEACE :D**


	3. Strippers, Murals, and Bad Tempers

**A/N: OKAH. Hi. Chapter 3/2 (on DA it's chapter 2 ;P) IS HERE. Hope you enjoy ;P**

-Vee's POV-

I woke up a few hours late-.. wait… when did I pass out?

I shook my head and got up, or, I tried to. Realizing I was in the arms of the Marine I hated SO much, my face lit up in (what I hoped was) anger. When did this happen?.. Oh right. I was drunk… Oh well.

I was thankful the huge blonde had fallen asleep. Carefully wrenching my way out of his grip, since it would be awkward if he woke up, I stood, stretching. Blinking and finally awake I was fully aware of my surroundings. My head pounded, signaling a terrible hangover.

"No wonder Nikolai never stays sober," I mumbled, rubbing my throbbing temples, "this is killing me."

I heard a chuckle behind me. "Hangover, eh? Not fun, is Nikolai right?"

"Yeah."

"Do not worry, you didn't drink a lot. It'll go away eventual-" he belched in the middle of his sentence then laughed. "Eh. Dempsey is lucky son of a bitch. He gets pretty stripper. Oh well. I have my vodka."

I felt my face flush. "What do you mean 'he gets pretty stripper'? He most certainly does not! …And stop calling me a stripper."

Nikolai merely laughed, shaking his head and leaving.

"W-wait! You can't be serious!"

The Russian just left me hanging.

Sly, drunk bastard.

* * *

><p>Trying to clear her head, Vee went to go torment her arch nemesis. As she expected, he was using blood, though she didn't want to know from whom, to paint the walls with weird, nonsense murals. A blonde woman, named Kay, was resting her chin on his shoulder, watching him.<p>

Vee poked him in the shoulder.

Scowling, he said, "Vhat is it? I'm busy."

"I'm bored."

"And I'm supposed to help you….. vhy? I hate you."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Don't sass me, child."

"Whatever."

Kay watched them fight, an amused look on her face. "Eddles, leave my sister alone," she said, her voice having no sense of seriousness.

"By Jesus, why do I come here if you're both NO help?"

The two psychos shrugged.

Vee yelled out of frustration. "I'M SO CONFUSED AND MY HEAD HURTS AND ALL EVERYONE HERE IS DOING IS MAKING IT WORSE."

She stormed off, seething. Richtofen watched her walk off, laughing. "Zhat girl and her horrid temper. I svear it's going to get her killed. If not by me, zhen some act of shtupidity." Kay rolled her eyes.

"Need more… 'paint'… TIME TO KILL MORE OF MY LITTLE FRIENDS!" Richtofen squealed, flailing his arms and scurrying off. Kay held in a laugh, following him.

* * *

><p>Vee was upset. She vented to her favorite drunk, despite him being out cold. Once she'd blown off as much steam as she could, she left.<p>

Usually, examining the scenery around her helped her think. She studied the elegant detailing carved into the walls. Hell, she even looked at a few of the murals Richtofen made. Though they made absolutely no sense to anyone but him, they were still oddly impressive.

Vee suddenly felt a sharp pain in her left calf. She looked down to see the teeth and claws of a Nova crawler sinking into her thin leg. Wailing in pain and feeling some of her calf muscles snap, she shot the smelling undead repeatedly. Not only did she have a bad wound, but a cloud of noxious Nova gas exploded in her face. She coughed and felt extremely dizzy. Her vision blurred and she was temporarily deaf.

What was even worse was that that was the last crawler of the round. A few seconds later, Vee could hear the loud groans and screams of the new, stronger undead beginning to invade.

Vee swore under her breath.

She began to limp as quickly as she could back to where everyone usually was, to almost no avail. She let out another wail of agony, unable to put weight on her leg. Knowing the map inside and out, she knew there was no way she could defend herself without having to run around.

There was no time to get the wound dressed properly. Vee just tore a bit of her flimsy tank top and tied the bite. She was already infected for the most part, so she figured a bite wouldn't do much other than just cause a few rips in the skin.

The young Scott tried to at least stay alive.

The undead were even more speedy and ruthless, to Vee's disadvantage.

"Why'd this have to happen NOW?" Lyth groaned to herself. The pain almost blinded her.

She couldn't stand it. She blasted the crowd with the remaining rounds of her Thundergun. Then she fired her Ray gun until it was also out of ammo.

Then there was silence.

Well, silence other than a few snarls and jaw-snaps from fresh crawlers.

Screaming in pain, Vee began to become furious. No one would help her when a new round started. It's as if they wanted her to die. The pain in her leg was terrible. That's all she noticed; the pain. What she didn't see was how much blood she was losing. A wave of dizziness hit her. She swayed, everything blurring and it all seemed to rush around her. She fell with a thud, fading to black…

* * *

><p><strong>I REALIZE THAT WAS KIND OF RUSHED. DON'T TAZE ME BRO.<strong>


	4. Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dream

**A/N: Hi! This chapter has some ...A LOT of violence (suicidenesstobeexactlol). BUT HERE'S THE NEXT PART. I think this is the longest one yet! Enjoy~**

Vee woke up to blood.

It was everywhere. It matted her thin hair, covered her front, caked her skin like dried mud. But she just giggled to herself. People sure do have a lot of blood in them, she thought, examining the red liquid pooled around her, should I even be alive? It puzzled her, the notion of having no blood left in her body and still be as alive as… Well someone obviously not dead. Vee shook her head, sitting up. "Weird," her voice sounded distant, "I don't feel pain… Maybe Richtofen-…" Her eyes narrowed. "He must've numbed the pain so I'd keep walking… AND BLEED TO DEATH!... Yes, that's it… Everyone else agrees too!" She laughed. "They don't give a flying fuck about me! I mean, who knows how long I'd been out… They think I'm a brat… I know their plans…" She wrung her red-stained hands nervously.

"Leave me when the round starts…"

Her eyelid twitched slightly.

"…don't help when I need it…"

The Scott scratched her leg.

"…wait for some time…"

She pressed her hand to her wound and the red goo seeped through her fingers.

"…and come back when they think I'm dead…"

The corners of her mouth pulled upward. "That's it… they're trying to kill me without actually killing me…" Vee knew she shouldn't have trusted them. If they didn't want her, they could've just spoken up, right? Her dear sweet friend named Sanity was slipping from her grasp. Vee put her thin, pale arms to her sides. Something brushed against her hand. It was as cold as death itself. It was the starting pistol, a Colt M1911. The odd thing was that Vee did not keep hers; it was her least favorite weapon.

An idea struck her like a bat hitting a baseball. "They can't kill me if I do it myself," she laughed, as a smile played across her thin, cracked lips. She studied the hunk of metal and checked how many rounds were left. Half a clip, she observed. Perfect. Just to make sure she knew how to fire it, Vee gripped the top, pulled it back till she heard a click, and let it slide back into place. She aimed and squeezed the trigger once, hitting a "FAUST" portrait on the wall. The glass in the frame shattered and the picture fell to the ground with a light thud. The Scott swallowed hard, a small voice in her head telling her she shouldn't do this and she's jumping to conclusions again. But she brushed aside that voice as if it were nothing; there was no sense in listening to reason now.

Vee pressed the Colt to the bottom of her chin and could feel the metal push her tongue upward. She took a deep breath, telling herself she had nothing to lose. "Zombies would've eaten me anyway… I'm useless…"

She squeezed the trigger, and everything went black.

* * *

><p>The young Scott awoke with a jolt. She could feel an intense pain in her leg. "It was a dream… It was a dream," she said voicelessly. She blinked and looked up at the ceiling, then sat up, and winced as she glanced around the room. Her position had never changed. A blindingly sharp throbbing felt like a drill in her head. Dragging herself to the nearest wall, Vee tried to relax but couldn't stop shaking. She was so startled by the dream she'd just emerged from. The blonde took in as much air as her lungs would allow and stood slowly, applying just a small amount of pressure on her wounded limb. The pain was excruciating and made her fall back down quickly as she struggled to maintain consciousness.<p>

Vee couldn't take it. She'd tried to think of something to help herself get around this, but thinking, along with walking AND seeing straight, was not an option. Tears threatened to spill over. After all that just happened, nothing could compare to the pain and abandonment she felt at the very moment. Her so-called allies weren't coming to her aide. They never did. She laughed at the irony.

"The dumb blonde who's always stalking and trying to rape me won't even help." Lyth gave up, shifting her position carefully against the cold wall. She adjusted her injured leg to make it as comfortable as it could be (though the pain never left for a minute.) A slow sigh escaped her thin lips, and her muscles contracted in a shudder. Wow, she thought darkly, I never realized how cold it can get. Panic quickly struck through her as the harmonious sound of groans, screams, and boards being torn from the walls created the lovely symphony of death. Vee knew she was finished. Her weapons were several feet away, but getting them was a futile effort; they were void of any ammo. "I'm dead," she said grimly. The world around her swirled together in a mash of fading colors. Sounds drifted away as her head bobbed, and her pale body went limp. Everything was truly gone.

* * *

><p>Vee's eyelids slowly opened to a bright shining light that warmed the right side of her face. She lifted her head slowly and blinked, looking down at the swirling colors below her. It was the telepad, emitting a low hum as the gears inside whirred. Vee groaned, lifting her numb body with arms like jelly. She sat back on her feet, shifting her weight from left to right, and back again. Looking down at her leg, she expected to see a numbed wound, but saw nothing. It was clean, as if getting bitten had never happened. On top of that, Vee felt as energetic as if she'd gotten a good night's rest and downed an energy drink or two. But the downside was that her weapons were gone, and that sent the girl into a fit of rage and swears.<p>

As she walked off lots of her anger, Vee assumed it had been at least one wave since she'd…. been out. Taking the biggest breath of sweet, cold air, she went weapon hunting.

Her eyes fell upon the glowing wooden crate that came up on her right. She looked at the map above it, and assumed she was in the dressing room (despite there being clothes strewn about the place.) A smile struck her seemingly emotionless face and she set her hands on the box. With much care, she proceeded to open the gamble of a weapon box. It wouldn't budge.

"What the…?" she was confused, "Open, ya stupid hunk of wood!" She strained to open the lid, but it was sealed tightly. Every time she tried, her feet slid back as the mysterious box stayed in place, not moved in the slightest. Vee huffed hair from her face angrily. "I see how it is…" Giving the inanimate storage unit a pissy glare, she trudged off, mumbling.

Something stopped her dead in her tracks. No, literally. Vee walked straight into a wall. She cried out in pain and frustration, rubbing her reddened forehead.

Her day was just not going well.

**ASLDFKASDf Tell me if there are any misspellings or sentences that don't make sense. There's a lot going on in my mind right now, so I have the attention span of a squirrel :I**


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